


peace will arise and tear us apart

by sepative



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Incest, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overwatch - Freeform, Self indulgent crossover, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, angst? maybe, au thing, he just gets more family members, other overwatch characters mentioned - Freeform, there are no ships w/ five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepative/pseuds/sepative
Summary: He’d be awake again in, at most, ten minutes. He’d go patch himself up, because that was what he did whenever he got hurt - he didn’t need anyone else’s help, didn’t need the defense or anything of that sort - and then he’d figure out how to get home. Until then, though, he sank into the brief unconsciousness, and found its all-encompassing embrace more relieving than he’d like to admit.Ten minutes. That’s all.--------or : a self-indulgent au in which Five finds himself in the universe of Overwatch, months after it'd been reformed. There is no apocalypse to worry about, but there is a war, and he just wants to find his family.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Lena "Tracer" Oxton
Comments: 26
Kudos: 61





	1. under the skin, against the skull

The cool air that the roaring rip above them put off was comforting, at the very least, and appreciated, but far from the thing they needed. His hands flexed out and it widened, and that was just enough, he thought. His siblings looked horrified - all but Vanya, who was unconscious (he thought). He told them it could get messy, and that was an understatement, but they needn’t worry about what the fuck could happen when they popped out of the other side of this thing - that was for him to worry about, not them. They wouldn’t understand it. It was complex - beautiful, but complex, and rather annoying if he was being honest with himself. Time travel is a tricky bitch, one that he had devoted more than four decades of life to trying to understand, ALMOST all for nothing. It helped now, he supposed, but it should have helped earlier. 

And then they were all going through, the only reminder of 2019 being the brief flash of searing heat that they had just barely missed as it razed the surface of the planet, burning everything and killing everyone it touched. Five had lived amongst that ruin, lived amongst the fallout of what had happened, and if he thought about it too much, he could almost feel the way his lungs protested as he went to take a deep breath, could feel the ash where it lined his throat and the inside of his chest and lungs, where it suffocated him and made it impossibly hard to breathe. It squeezed his chest, made him unravel at the seams. But there was no ash, no smoke, and Five was, currently and however briefly, trapped somewhere between time and space - it happened with each bout of time travel, and for a moment, he could physically feel the indescribable pull of something unidentified as he was jerked back into reality.

The first thing to signify where he’d landed was the sound of gunfire, bullets whizzing by him as he fell from somewhere above, reaching for anything to catch himself on and finding nothing. He hit the ground, concrete, with a thud and all the air rushed out of his lungs. For a moment, a fleeting moment, Five almost considered staying there - it would be in his best interests, given the fact that he had just barely avoided being shot (and it wasn’t even on purpose that he’d avoided it, more a stroke of luck and the fact they couldn’t hit a moving target). 

But, against his better judgement, he slowly got up - not all the way, of course, merely crouching and using whatever was in front of him as cover. It was a crate, one that undoubtedly could be shot through, but he’d use it for the time being anyway. There was shouting that he could barely hear above the ringing in his ears, shouting that sounded less like a stream of words and more like incoherent, inaudible shrieking, and maybe it was. Still, he kept his head down, ignored the shouting - until the ringing became less horrible, until the words became intelligible, and he could finally TRY to grasp what was going on. 

‘ -- MORRISON!’ came a shout from somewhere behind him, and he half considered ignoring it, only it was hard to when he appeared to be in the midst of a fucking _battlefield_. ‘-- UND SOMEONE --’ the words blurred together, and he had to force himself to pay attention, ‘ -- AMN KID, THERE’S -- KID -- A DAMN KID --’ and he could get the gist, despite the fact that he didn’t have a clear hold on most of what had just been said - he understood the “there’s a damn kid”, and immediately, frustration seized him. Footsteps behind him, a hand on his shoulder - he flinched away angrily, fury plastered over his face. He bumped the crate, sending the pile toppling, and then immediately barreled for the nearby wall. It was better cover, he’d admit, and the person that had approached him seemed to be following.

If he paid enough attention, something would have felt off, would have felt awry, but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind was separated on various different paths, trying to take in each one, and not one of them was focused on why he felt off. He suspected it was just the time travel, that he’d feel a little off every single time he jumped through the years, and that he’d feel better after a few minutes - it was a mistake, he knew, and he needed to check himself over, but that could wait - he wasn’t exactly ALONE at that moment.

‘Blimey!’ came the voice, now much easier to hear, and Five picked up on the English lilt, the accent, and noted that it sounded as though it were a woman talking. He didn’t assume in full, of course, but he had his guess. ‘I know this whole mission went all to pot, but I think we’ve got a whole new problem,’ she said into what he assumed was a comlink, and reached out as though to touch him once more - probably hadn’t expected the way he yanked away, because her brows were raised beneath her visor, her lips parted just slightly as though to say something more - maybe to him, maybe to whoever was on the other end of that com. He didn’t care near enough. ‘Where are we?’ he asked, his voice even and without inflection, and maybe some other time he’d have taken amusement in the way she seemed taken aback. 

‘Watchpoint Gibraltar,’ she replied, leaned around the wall as though searching for someone, and then said into her com again, ‘Payload’s gonna have ta wait, boss, we’ve got an, er. . issue! A hiccup, really,’ her voice was easy-going, though somewhat strained, and it made him grimace. Told him that they did this often, and though that was almost commendable, he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on, or why they were at. . Watchpoint Gibraltar, as she’d called it. ‘Winston, hang back a little, need your help with something, yeah?’ and he didn’t know who Winston was, but he didn’t think he wanted to find out. He took a small step away, and was shocked by the weight of his limbs - their insistence that he stay still, the way his entire body protested when he moved. It didn’t feel right, but nothing felt right at that moment, so he wasn’t all concerned. ‘Need to go,’ he said, and she only nodded - though still stepped with him as he moved to the right. ‘Small problem with that,’ the woman said, seeming regretful. ‘Landed in the middle of some nasty business, is all! Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we can get you back home fine, just, erm. . Stick around? Here, at least. We’ll come back for you.’

‘Don’t need your help,’ he grunted as he looked out at the rest of the area - from where he stood, he could see the incline that dipped below the platform ahead. He didn’t know where that led, but he assumed it wasn’t a place he wanted to be, especially at her immediate grimace as he stared. 

‘Yes, well, mm.’ she seemed conflicted, briefly, and then righted herself just as quickly. ‘It’s what we do, help, so. . I’m gunna. It’s ok, really!’

Five had gone to interrupt her, mostly to ask what year it was, when the world tilted - just slightly, but enough for him to notice. Black edged at the corners of his vision, and he was beginning to wonder if maybe he hadn’t been so lucky in that freefall - in that quick dash to the wall. She reached out to steady him and the instant her hand met his shoulder, pain flared up - it was immediate, and she seemed perplexed at the way he’d sucked in a breath through his teeth at first, until she retracted her hand to look at it - noticed it had come away slick with red, and _oh_ , their eyes met so briefly that it almost didn’t happen at all. He closed his eyes, noted that all he would need to do was sit down for a minute - just let himself rest, because he was tired and the wound wasn’t helping. 

His own hand came up, pressed against the source of the blood and he ignored it as the pain came back, burning and radiating throughout his entire arm. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said, sounding conflicted. ‘Winston,’ she said into her com, ‘Grab Angela on your way. Asap, preferably. Thanks, love.’

And then she was looking at him again, seeming as though she wanted to reach out and steady him, because he was swaying on his feet and seemed a mere second or so from collapsing in on himself, but it hadn’t worked out well before. ‘We’ve a medic on the way,’ she stated, her words soft still, but firm now. ‘She’ll get you patched right up. Everything’s gonna be ok. Do you have any family?’ 

Her words melted into one another as his ears began to ring again - or maybe they’d never stopped ringing, maybe he’d just been efficient at pushing it out of sight out of mind in favor of focusing on the vibrant red that was smeared over his palm and fingers. His vision blurred and everything mixed uncomfortably, and oh, he was so tired. Just. . He needed to rest a little. He was exhausted, his head felt heavy, his eyes heavier, and it wouldn’t hurt to just sit down and rest his eyes for a second or two. Maybe a minute, maybe five - however long it took for the vertigo to fade. 

And he guessed, as he realized suddenly that he was no longer upright, that laying down was ok, too. Maybe he’d fallen, maybe he’d gotten here on purpose, he didn’t know. All he could think about how the ground was cool beneath him, the sky overhead was blurry and messy looking, and that consciousness was evading him so quickly that it was alarming. He closed his eyes, hardly acknowledged the hand on his face, on his neck as it checked for a pulse (he assumed), and let the exhaustion sweep over him in waves.

He’d be awake again in, at most, ten minutes. He’d go patch himself up, because that was what he did whenever he got hurt - he didn’t need anyone else’s help, didn’t need the defense or anything of that sort - and then he’d figure out how to get home. Until then, though, he sank into the brief unconsciousness, and found its all-encompassing embrace more relieving than he’d like to admit.

Ten minutes. That’s all.


	2. and now i want brimstone in my garden

He’d been confident in that - ten minutes. Only ten, because that was what he was used to - even at the brink of death, Five had forced himself to abide by the ten minute rule. It was important to him, like a ritual, but as it was, the desire to keep to a specific pattern or ritual simply wasn’t enough, not when blood loss and exhaustion both contributed. When he dragged his eyes open again, it wasn’t to the sky he’d passed out to, no, but the stark white ceiling of. . somewhere. He blinked the blurriness from his eyes, but had yet to actually move - he didn’t know where he was, why he was there, or who had taken him there - but when he thought about it further, he realized that it wasn’t all that hard to draw the conclusion. The woman he’d been talking to - she was the only one that had been around. He twitched a bit, and there was the sudden sound of someone stirring nearby, as though they’d been woken by his slight movement. There was a light tutting, and the voice (familiar, the English lilt reaching his ears and immediately proving itself to be something he recognized), hit him like a ton of bricks. ‘Morning, lad,’ she said, sounding all too happy for the situation. He squinted against the bright light overhead, took a deep breath and then, finally, looked at her. 

She looked about as upbeat as she had the last time he’d seen her. It reminded him of Allison, in a way, or maybe Vanya with a little more childish glee added to the sparkle of the eyes. It made him sick. It reminded him that he needed to find his family. Suddenly and without a word in response to what she’d said, Five’s hand went to the IV and yanked, and he ignored the light sting and further ignored the trickle of blood that followed. She sputtered, briefly, and then hurried to her feet, her hands quick to scramble over his own. He yanked away from her, frustrated, and she said, ‘Wait, wait, wait, WAIT, ah -’ he wasn’t listening, didn’t have time to listen, ‘You -- need to -- c’mon, stop that, those are expensive - Quit! You’re hurt!’

‘All the more reason for me to get out of here,’ he said, words rushed and vague and clipped, as he threw the blanket off himself. He noted, suddenly, that he wasn’t in his uniform anymore. That was where he froze, lips parted ever so slightly as though the words he’d formed had gotten stuck on his tongue, and then he was considering what he was doing. Panic had never done him any good, and while it was true he wasn’t anywhere he needed to be, he didn’t have the energy (yes he did) to fight with these people. Plus, the wound was already aching in protest, and he figured that he was doing himself no good. At her soft, ‘Yeah, yeah, that’s it - it’s ok,’ he relented, though not because of the words themselves. He eased back onto the bed, legs no longer dangling over the side, instead pulled them back onto it and crossed them. 

Despite the relaxed mood now, Five had pulled himself into the far back corner of it, the pillow tossed to the foot of it in favor of having his back flush against the wall. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and he was sure they knew that, so this big misunderstanding could be brushed under the rug as soon as he could get it there. For now, though, he had questions - plenty of questions, ones he couldn’t exactly word without sounding weird.

But when had that ever stopped him? 

Before the quiet could fully settle, Five cleared his throat, and took a deep breath. ‘What year is it?’ he asked, finally leveling his eyes with the woman’s - eye contact wasn’t exactly something he was always privy to, never really seeing reason in it, but he figured it might help. She thought he was a kid (technically, he was, but that didn’t matter), and this would help, er. . appeal to that side, he guessed. Like his thoughts had suggested, she looked a little confused at first, but still answered with a quick chirp of, ‘2076. Are you feeling ok?’

He ignored the question she’d thrown in, like a curveball, one that had nearly taken him by surprise - nearly. Not quite, though, and he spoke once again. ‘. . Okay.’ and as he scanned his brain for something else to say, for someone to insist to them - that he was ok, that he could leave, that he didn’t need their help - she spoke again. ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ she said, and oh, Five was already growing tired of THAT worry. He stared at her, his expression indifferent and near unreadable. The only giveaway was the edge of irritation, and it was something she smiled at. ‘I know you’ve probably taken care of yourself for a while, but we’re here to help you.’ her words were sincere, but Five still couldn’t bring himself to trust him. She reached out, her hand nearly resting over his own.

‘Already said I don’t need your help,’ he said, and jerked away from her, hands retreating to his lap. One went to where he could feel the outline of bandaging - secure around his shoulder. He didn’t ask when that had gotten there, but it did remind him -

‘How long was I out?’ 

‘Fourteen hours tops. I only got here an hour ago, though, so I don’t really know if you woke up before.’ she said, and he hated how honest she seemed - hated that she probably wouldn’t be near as much if he appeared as old as he really was. She seemed doting, like Grace, like Allison, like Vanya - like a mother. But not quite a mother - sisterly, like the ones he had. Has. He swallowed, mouth dry, but still couldn’t find the words he so desperately needed out of his system. ‘What time is it now?’ he asked, and even if he felt like shit for asking so many questions, he needed to know where, when and. . how he’d gotten there.

Well. Kind of. He already knew the HOW, but not the why. He couldn’t exactly ask about that, though. 

‘Two in the morning,’ she replied. There was a small pause, and then she smiled at him, extending her hand. He stared at it, confused, until she spoke again. ‘Tracer! Or Lena Oxton. You can just call me Lena, though.’ She introduced herself, and he half considered swatting her hand away, but decided against it. Hadn’t quite decided on if he was going to take it, though, far too uncertain. It took him much thought to even reply, a curt ‘Five,’ being the only response she received as he took her hand. The handshake was brief, and he retracted his hand as quickly as he’d offered it, but she still looked pleased.

‘Well, Five. . You’re safe with us. Do you have any family? Parents? Siblings?’

‘Why?’

She faltered a little at that, though only slightly, and she hummed out lightly. ‘Fair. I understand that we’re. . I’m a stranger, love, but we’re here to help. Honestly. I don’t know where you came from or how you got in the middle of all that mess, but I know it couldn’t have been an easy thing to see, and if you need to talk abo -’

‘I’ve seen worse. I’m fine,’ he said suddenly, the way he’d said them urgent. He didn’t want any kind of. . pity, and even if that wasn’t her intention, it was certainly what it’d come across as. Lena definitely sounded concerned, had since they’d met, and he didn’t like it. Reminded him too much of his family, of Vanya - everything reminded him of Vanya. Allison. His stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he forced air into his lungs once he’d realized he’d been holding his breath. She stared at him a moment longer, the frown on her face evident, and then it was replaced by a light smile yet again. ‘Right,’ she said, though she sounded. . sad, or her voice had the undertone of sadness in it anyway.

‘Well. . I’d hate to keep you holed up in here, I know how miserable it can be,’ she said without adding context or reason behind her words, ‘So. . I could probably reason with Angie, see if she’d let you get up and walk around. We fixed up your uniform, so you can change now.’ 

He took a second to process the words, and then he nodded. She gestured to the chair in the corner, where his clothes were folded neatly - and then she stood up. ‘I’ll wait outside,’ Lena said. ‘Privacy and all that. Yell if you need anything,’ and then she was gone, and he felt such an immense crash of relief that it was almost unbelievable. Immediately, Five uncrossed his legs and hurried out of the bed - careful to catch himself when he nearly hit the ground, knees having nearly buckled beneath the sudden weight - and to the chair. He changed into the clothes, straightened his tie, and carefully avoided stretching out despite the strong temptation to do so. 

And then he exited the room, watched as Lena perked up, and then grimaced to himself as the smile returned to her face. ‘Alright, right this way,’ she said, leading him down the long hallway and then to the right instead of the left. He didn’t understand that decision, but figured it wasn’t up to him, and followed along - albeit hesitantly. He didn’t like being led around, but understood that he really didn’t know where he was, and as such had no jurisdiction here. ‘Cafeteria,’ Lena said suddenly, interrupting the quiet AND his thoughts by extension. ‘I figured you might be hungry - you were out for quite a bit and Ange said it’s common for kids to want something to eat after waking up - so we might as well stop here first.’ 

And the way she acted - she was pretending like she hadn’t organized a plate for him ahead of time, having plucked it from the counter nearby. She sat it down at the table nearby and then slid onto one of the seats herself, gesturing at the one on the opposite side. ‘Sit, sit. We can look at everything else after.’

Five stared at her incredulously, and then looked at the food he’d been presented with, his nose wrinkled up slightly. It wasn’t that it looked or smelled gross, no, just that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold it down. ‘Not hungry,’ he said, though he DID seem a bit interested in something else, ‘Do you have coffee?’

‘Of course we do. Morrison would have an aneurysm without it, honestly. Sit tight, I’ll go get it for you.’ 

He watched as she walked off and disappeared around the corner, and for a moment, he half considered getting up and walking off to explore the rest of the base himself. He decided against it, though, because getting lost or running into people he didn’t need to be around was not in his best interests at ALL. She was back in fifteen seconds tops anyway, and set the cup in front of him. He took it, cracked the lid open just to look inside, wary, and then took a drink. 

At any rate, Five would ignore the grimace on her face as he scalded his own tongue with it - it was better than nothing, and being honest, it wasn’t bad coffee.

‘So, erm. . Kind of mandatory for me to ask even if I don’t want to,’ she began, and he immediately leveled his gaze with her.

‘Then don’t,’ he said, ignoring the fact she’d stated that it was “mandatory”. 

It was apparently her turn to ignore him, because she replied with, ‘Do you remember how you got there?’ 

Five considered lying. It would make it so he could avoid all the unnecessary questions, make it easier to avoid the interaction at all. He also considered telling her the truth, maybe because she’d been honest with him. In the end, the former won. 

‘No, I don’t,’ he said. She made a face, one like pity, and nodded. ‘We’ll figure it out, I know we will. Until then. .’ she trailed off, the pause and quiet alike brief, ‘I think Ange would like to meet you, er. . Consciously. She’s the one that patched you up, but you were sleeping. She has some questions of her own.’ 

As much as he’d have liked to protest, he couldn’t find it in himself, and instead shrugged one shoulder noncommittally, took a sip of the coffee, and then stood up. 

‘Peachy! Right through here.’

It was going to be a long day.


	3. entitled to a sense of control

It was five thirty am when Five finally found anything noteworthy to latch onto in this base - they’d finished exploring most of it, and Lena was just finishing up telling him that it wasn’t all that exciting when you dug too far into it, and Five had told her that it wasn’t exciting at all - she’d laughed, then, saying she liked his humor. He didn’t think it was funny, had been serious, but figured he would leave that up in the air, because he had no reason to ruin it for her. Not yet at least. His fingers were still wrapped around the cup he’d carried out of the cafeteria, the heat no longer present and the liquid inside long gone, but it was comforting, to some degree. It gave him something to hold onto, and he would dig his fingers into it with each annoying question, with each new appearance. Despite the amount of times the name had been mentioned, Five had yet to actually meet whoever was named Morrison, and at that point, he wasn’t entirely sure if it’d be a good idea for him to. 

The way they spoke of him, so highly, it made Five wonder if he was a leader. Their leader. He couldn’t decide on if he was confident in that thought or not, so he honestly didn’t put much thought or faith behind it. He was called to attention by Lena speaking to him for the first time in thirty minutes - she’d been chatty for the last three hours, and only recently had she fallen quiet. He assumed it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t responded the last three times she’d tried speaking to him, and that was on him, but he had no inclination to speak about himself or where he came from - as far as they were concerned, Five just didn’t remember how he’d gotten there, where he was from or if he had family.

It was better for them that way.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ she had asked, he realized - and maybe she’d asked twice, because he really hadn’t been paying attention, but it didn’t matter. Five gave her a look, one skeptical when it came to her intentions, but he sighed and nodded. ‘Feeling fine.’ he said. ‘I’ve felt worse,’ he added, and then when she gave him a side-eye look, he continued, ‘I can’t remember what it was that I felt that was worse, but I know I’ve felt worse.’

She seemed satisfied with that.

‘Ange should be up here,’ she said. ‘Busy day for that one. She’s one of the only medics here right now - we’ve Baptiste, and Ana, but they’re out. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to meet you when they’re back, though, they like kids. Better with them than I am,’ Lena laughed, almost nervously, and Five resisted the urge to blow up about that - she’d called him some variation of “kid” so many times he’d lost count so far, and it was irritating - he was fifty-eight years old, he wasn’t a fucking kid - but he couldn’t voice that frustration without rising some unnecessary questions that he couldn’t be bothered to concern himself with answering.

‘Peachy,’ he replied, though he didn’t really bother with masking the vague exasperation there. ‘When are these people supposed to be here?’

‘Scheduled to land by six.’

‘AM?’

‘Yeh. They’ve always preferred early arrivals. About thirty minutes out right now,’ Lena said, then looked at him head-on for the first time in about an hour, ‘Why, are you worried about something?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ he said, and that time didn’t bother hiding the irritated edge to his voice. If she was surprised by the light change in tone, she didn’t say anything about it, only smiled and nodded. ‘Just SOUNDED worried,’ she chirped instead, and immediately he frowned. 

‘I didn’t sound worried, either.’ 

‘Why so defensive, lad?’ Lena defended, and laughed shortly after, and oh, she might not have meant for it to be patronizing, but god-dammit he was tired of being talked to like that. He understood that she really thought he was a kid, that he looked and maybe acted like one so far, but it was all an act - and he just wished, for once, that he wasn’t such a good actor. That they could tell he was older than he seemed. But that was hard to demand of people that didn’t know him, especially when he was claiming amnesia above all else. He didn’t respond to what she’d said, instead faced forward and sighed as he tried to figure out what all he was supposed to do now. Maybe nothing, maybe something - he really didn’t know. He knew that he needed to get the fuck out of here, or maybe he’d stick around until he could figure out the equations - he hadn’t decided yet. 

At any rate, Lena’s voice is what brought him out of his brief stupor yet again, waving a hand in front of his face - and then grimacing in apology as he jerked away from her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, sincere sounding, ‘We’re here, though. Ange is right ahead and around the corner. I’m gonna come with, is that ok?’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Perfect!’

As they DID round the corner, the first thing that Five took into account was the too-large mecha that sat in the far corner. It looked weird, not like any he’d seen during his time, but then again. . this wasn’t his universe, wasn’t his home. The second thing was the man, grey-haired and tired looking, who was conversing with a young-looking blonde woman. She looked hopeful, and there were hand-made wings folded to her back. He assumed they were part of her suit, but didn’t care enough to ask - maybe he’d get the opportunity later, when he didn’t have to worry about time consumption and efficiency alike. Diego would like it here, Five thought, but quickly negated that thought instead of refocusing as Lena cleared her throat, grabbing the attention of the man and woman alike. 

The latter of the two was the first to perk up, a smile suddenly gracing her features, and Five suddenly wished they’d stop looking at him like that. He wasn’t a child, no matter how convinced they were of that, and he only hated that he couldn’t tell them otherwise without risking all that he’d built up to so far, which, being honest, wasn’t all that much. But it was enough, too much for him to risk. With no warning, the woman reached out, the back of her hand going to his forehead as though to feel for a temperature - and like with Lena, he flinched away, his brows furrowed. The immediate regret on her face, all raised brows and parted lips, normally would have made him laugh, but it didn’t. He didn’t want her concern, their concern. 

‘Sorry,’ she said, and he made note of the light accent there. He couldn’t quite tell what it was yet, but was sure he’d be able to once she spoke a little more. ‘You’re feeling fine? No fever, no nausea?’

‘Nothing,’ he said simply, though her questions made him wonder if the wound had gotten infected. She looked concerned, still, as though she were taking his words with a pinch or two of salt, but wasn’t explicitly disbelieving. Rather than let the silence settle like he had earlier, Five continued, ‘It’s - I’m fine. Really.’ 

She appeared a little more relieved at that statement. Without missing a beat, however, she picked up on whatever she’d been doing, waving the clipboard idly in one hand. ‘Well, I am Angela. This is Jack, or Commander Morrison,’ she said, gesturing to the man to her left. Five allowed his eyes to travel to the man, and he pursed his lips - figured that the sudden meeting was better than none at all. At any rate, it’d be better if he directed his questions toward him - or maybe not. He was still skeptical about the lot of them, and Lena was the only one he’d really come around to, though even that was questionable. She was sweet, he’d admit that, and maybe she was a little too sincere for her own good, but he couldn’t really fault her for that - not when her being sweet and kind and whatever the fuck else was probably the only reason he was conscious right now. 

‘His name’s Five,’ Lena added on, smiling even as Morrison perked a brow, almost disbelieving. Angela just smiled in return, and nodded, ‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you. The Commander and I have some questions for you, if that’s ok.’

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Well -’

‘No,’ Morrison interrupted, arms folded across his chest like the typical poster-boy soldier that Five would have expected him to be. He barely suppressed the urge to curl his lip, staring in, thankfully, disguised distaste. Angela grimaced herself, but didn’t contest the Commander’s words, simply shook her head. ‘Sadly, no. They’re mandatory, and it’s so we can ensure that you are in good health.’ He wanted to tell her that he knew his health was fine, that he knew there was nothing wrong with him, but of course, that would only make problems for him - he wasn’t supposed to know. So, he simply shrugged, and nodded. ‘Okay, well. . Fine.’ he sat only when Lena gestured in the direction of the bench, and she sat down on the other end of it, one leg crossed over her knee as she waited.

‘Have you any headaches so far? I understand you only woke up recently, but it’s still a question that needs to be asked.’

‘A little,’ he replied. ‘Nothing terrible.’

Angela nodded and jotted it down on the paper that was held down to the clipboard, only raising her eyes when he didn’t respond to a question. ‘Do you remember anything at all? Your family, where you came from, what happened, why you were at that Watchpoint?’

‘Nothing,’ it was simple. He was good at lying, and the guilt on her face told him that much. He just wished they could wrap this up, because he had things to attend to - needed to get back to a room or the infirmary at the very least before the aforementioned two medics showed up. He didn’t want any added company. ‘All I remember is waking up and hearing gunfire. I don’t know when it happened, but I guess I got shot, too. I didn’t notice until I fell.’

‘Do you have any ideas as to how you’d have gotten there?’

‘None. I don’t remember anything.’

‘Right. Sorry.’

Morrison looked bothered, staring at Five like there was something wrong with him - and maybe there was. Five didn’t know. He raised his eyes to meet the soldier’s, finally, and stared at him until Angela spoke again - and even then, he hardly looked away. 

‘How old are you? Do you know?’

There was a definite pause there, as Five struggled with himself. He knew that it’d be chalked up to his memory faltering, to him struggling to recall how old he was. He was tempted to say fifty-eight, and was even more tempted to say nothing at all. Thirteen was not a number he wanted to spout off, even if it was accurate. He pressed his lips into a thin like, and then shook his head. ‘No, I don’t remember. I don’t even know how I knew my name.’ he said, the words as close to sincere as he could get them - and it worked, it seemed, because Angela’s face had once again crumpled into something like guilt.

He almost felt bad.

Almost.

And then Morrison spoke, ‘Well, you shouldn’t have been there, obviously. We just need to figure out why, and who would just leave a child there.’

Five bit down the urge to snap about his age, to snap about how old he really was, because honestly? The act he had going was almost bulletproof. He had them each convinced, including their leader, and it was the best part of it all. Still, he was irritated, and decided that they’d probably chalk it up to being in pain.

‘Are we done?’

‘Not quite,’ the medic hummed in response, and though her expression was still soft, concerned, he could see the professional edge there. He set his jaw and waited for her next round of questions when the sound of rumbling neared - he stared straight ahead, the relaxed expression quickly becoming one of alarm. He must have moved a bit suddenly, though, because Lena’s hand shot out to encompass his wrist, and he yanked it away from her so suddenly and so sharply that she was nearly pulled off the bench. His heart was racing in his chest, because there was just too much to process - the rumbling had stopped shortly after it had started, and the large doors ahead opened up, revealing an older woman with an eyepatch and a taller man to her right. He assumed those two were the medics Lena had told him about, and he immediately regretted sticking around for so long. If there was one type of person in the world that Five would avoid above all else, it was always the medic types - too caring, too soft, and too curious for his taste. 

The woman, whom of which he assumed was Ana, looked at him and he could practically feel the confusion from where he sat. Lena was still recovering from the whiplash that was nearly being yanked out of her sitting position by a kid, but still wore a smile as she waved, greeting the two. ‘Heyhey! Bit of a pickle here, might need your help,’ she said, and Five wanted to kick her. He didn’t need them here, too - one medic was bad enough as it was, and he really wasn’t looking forward to any kind of wires or anything similar. He didn’t want to deal with tests, didn’t want to deal with experiments, and as such would probably refuse things of both sorts. 

They’d probably insist.

He’d deny it each time, but was sure that they’d try to be convincing. Five was stubborn, though, as he was sure his siblings knew - and oh, his chest ached thinking about them. They might be here, too, and if they’d landed in a place like he had. . He swallowed the sudden bile and nausea, his expression still blank as he watched the two where they had settled in place nearby. 

‘We bring children to our base of operations now?’ Ana practically purred as she took the cup that Morrison offered to her, bringing it to her lips. 

‘Found him during the Gibraltar mission,’ Lena replied, her brows raised. ‘He doesn’t remember how he got there, or anything for that matter. We’ve been trying to figure it out.’

The woman stared incredulously for a moment, her only visible eye trained on him. Her expression was conflicted, like she didn’t know how she wanted to feel about the scenario and hadn’t yet decided about it in full. ‘Hurt?’

‘Was shot, but we patched him up.’

‘Mmm,’ she tutted, ‘You guys didn’t see anything? Nobody else was there?’

Five decided he didn’t like that he was being talked about as though he wasn’t sitting right there. Baptiste, the second medic that had been notably quiet so far, made his way to the bench and crouched directly in front of Five, his expression commiserate and soft. ‘I know this might be scary,’ he said, his accent thick, ‘But we’ll take care of you.’

Charming as the statement was, Five didn’t need to be taken care of. He’d be fine. Still, he didn’t say anything to contest that statement, only nodded, because he didn’t need to be arguing with these people right now. Baptiste looked as though he’d gone to reach out, but Lena had just as quickly reached out and swatted his hand away, shaking her head. She offered no reasoning behind her decision to do so, but Baptiste simply nodded anyway, and retracted his hands so they were on his knees. ‘Do you know who we are?’ he asked, and it was a stupid question, one that he probably shouldn’t have to answer, but Five shook his head anyway.

‘No. I barely know who I am.’ 

‘That’s fair,’ the medic replied, a smile plastered over his features. It was too-warm, too-sweet, and Five felt sick because it reminded him of Diego. Even if Diego was never too-sweet, never too-warm, the smile itself was a reminder of his brother, and god, he just needed to find them. Thinking about them like he was in that moment only succeeded in bringing his whole thought process to a standstill, his eyes stuck where he’d been staring at the floor. Every noise presented itself to him at once - the buzzing of the overhead lights, the distant chatter, and then, closer, the hushed conversation between Ana, Angela and Morrison.

‘ -- TSD, he presents the signs --’ 

‘ -- We can’t know that --’

‘I’m right here,’ he announced, his gaze no longer far-away, but frustrated. He watched them carefully, his lips pursed and the irritation clear as ever. ‘You can tell me. I don’t care.’

‘You wouldn’t understand. It’s complicated.’ Angela said, her voice soft, but patronizing nonetheless. His expression immediately twisted up into that of anger, no longer thinly-veiled as it had been before, and he got to his feet. He didn’t want to deal with this shit. Didn’t HAVE to deal with this shit. He heard Lena protesting, heard Angela too, but nothing stuck out to him - not until a hand, too. . there, too present, grabbed him by the arm, and Morrison’s voice reached his ears, but he didn’t hear what was said - his mind had blanked the instant he’d made contact. On impulse, Five grabbed for his power within himself, and he disappeared in a brilliant flash of blue. The silence that fell over them was instant - he’d reappeared just a few feet away, on his knees, his chest heaving. He hadn’t been ready to do that at ALL, was far too tired, and hadn’t quite recovered from the whole. . time travel thing. 

‘. . Kid? Five?’ Lena tried as she approached him, tentative, and Morrison had taken a step back - Angela was looking at him pointedly, seeming agitated. The English woman crouched before him, one arm crossed over her knees, the other by her side. She waited a moment, and then offered her hand to him. ‘He didn’t mean it, he just -- we need you to stick around us. They have questions. When they’re done, they’ll explain what they were talking about, and then I can take you back to the infirmary. Or, if you’re hungry, we can go back to the cafeteria. Ok?’

He stared at her from where he sat, thoroughly rattled (and embarrassed) by his own reaction. He, hesitantly, took her hand and allowed her to help him up as she rose to a full stand as well. 

‘Now,’ Ana said, watching as Lena released him the instant he was steady on his own, moving back to the bench, where they both sat.

‘Let’s try this again.’


	4. slow down, it's a science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo! i didn't expect this to take off as quickly as it did. got a couple things to lay out, so rock n roll buckaroo
> 
> i. thanks for reading! i'm glad you guys are enjoying it. this was made on a whim and is more self indulgent than anything, but i'm glad you guys can enjoy it with me. the comments really motivate me a lot, so thanks for those, too!
> 
> ii. some of the things in the overwatch universe are going to be canon divergent. the first and main example of this shows up in this chapter - you'll understand once you read it! this is mainly for self-indulgent purposes, and because i'd like to branch out to more characters and how i interpret them. 
> 
> iii. the chapters will (hopefully) get longer as i start posting them more! i'm trying to pace myself so i don't burn out, but they will have more content as time goes on. i just need to give myself things to work with! thank you for all the patience. 
> 
> iv. canon compliance is a tricky bitch. i'll do right by the characters as they are in their source media, but much of this story is going to diverge from what's been in both sides of the crossover, and i know that's pretty much what you guys have signed up for, but i'd like to state again that it's gonna get messy! i don't have a single coherent braincell so :-)
> 
> v. if you'd like to speak with me about the writing, or anything at all for that matter, my discord is knife gun#1989

The questions were personal, invasive and all too complicated for Five’s taste. He’d been interrogated before, with fingers curled into his hair and fingers pressing harshly into his jaw, but this wasn’t interrogation ; he was sat on a bench with three medical professionals standing before him, each with their own concerns, and they were even gentle in their method. But it still felt all the same ; like torture, like slow and drawn-out torture that made his lungs and ribs ache. He felt like something was stuck in his throat, like he’d inhaled dirt, and like someone had punched him afterward. It was an impractical kind of winded feeling, and he had to reiterate to himself that he needed to get up, to go, to figure out how to get back to his siblings (or find them if they’d ended up here, too). But suddenly there was quiet and he was being stared at again, Morrison’s eyes drilling into him as though he’d done something wrong, and briefly, Five wondered if he had. ‘What’d you do before?’ he asked finally, and Five was already beginning to regret using his power, however impulsively it had been. He didn’t normally do that, no matter how threatened - he only used it when he wanted to, when it was under his control, in the palm of his hand, but it hadn’t been then. It was irritating. 

‘The blue. You disappeared.’

‘I don’t know,’ Five lied easily, pushing back at the cuticle of his thumbnail. It was light pain, hardly pain at all, but enough for him to consider it a distraction of sorts. Being idle had never been something that sat well with him, admittedly, so doing literally anything else was for the better. ‘That’s. . I don’t know what it was,’ he added on finally, the long pause of silence after improvised. And then, deciding to go the extra mile with this. . acting, as one might call it, Five averted his eyes. ‘Am I a freak?’

‘No,’ Lena interjected quickly, not giving any of her teammates the chance to do it themselves. ‘No, you’re not a freak. Just special.’

If only she knew.

‘Oh,’ he said, sounding solemn. He almost - not quite, but almost - felt pride in how well this was working out for him. It wasn’t hard to act like a kid, no, but it was almost laughable how well it was sold. Five guessed that all that time on his own had done him SOME good (a bitter thought, it made his throat burn and his lungs ache), because retaining that childish nature, however buried it was, was possibly saving his life. Even if he doubted they’d kill him if they knew the truth, he wasn’t willing to take that chance - and the reality of it was that if they didn’t kill him for it, then they’d run tests, investigate the power, and he couldn’t afford for that to happen. 

Now that he’d actually USED his power, though, however slight, they were probably going to do it anyway. It was a realization that made his shoulders hunch inward, his expression pinched and his lip curled just slightly in a way that expressed irritation, but nothing more. Morrison, the soldier, the poster-boy of soldiers, took a step forward. Five leaned back where he was sat on the bench and stared at him, his hands suddenly making tight fists, and if he focused hard enough, he could feel the immediate switch flip within himself - the moment that relative ease became alarm, his brain just a moment, a small signal, away from kicking itself into overdrive. Luckily, though, Five had become accustomed (partially) to their habit of crowding his personal space, or the personal bubble he’d made for himself. And even luckier for him, Morrison didn’t reach out to grab or touch him otherwise, instead offered him a cup. ‘Lena told me you like coffee,’ he said, his voice. . apologetic, almost, but maybe that was just Five hoping to hear some kind of apology for the shit he’d pulled. After all, the voice was more monotone than anything, and it was very well possible that the lilt he could’ve sworn was there had been conjured up by a spring internal. 

Reluctant but grateful, he took the cup and cracked the lid as he had with the coffee before, made sure it. . didn’t look off (he knew that things hid just below the surface, just out of sight, out of mind, and that his eye was not entirely to be trusted when it came to these things, but couldn’t bring himself to care). Once it had passed the silent test he’d had for it, he took a drink, and nodded his thanks afterward. Angela looked pleased, but said nothing about that, instead :

‘I know you do not remember anything, but we may need to check for augmentation. Sometimes, it can conflict with our treatments, and we aren’t certain if what happened was natural or otherwise.’

He stared at her, his lips pursed, and was almost tempted to voice that he was shocked she wasn’t more concerned with the fact he’d just teleported in front of them - but with all he’d seen so far, Five wasn’t entirely sure if it wasn’t something they’d seen before. He could only hope they were level-headed because it was familiar, and not because it was that fake level-headedness that came right before a storm, right before something horrible. Despite the fact that he could almost be positive that their intentions were good, that they meant no harm, Five couldn’t quite convince himself that it would stay that way. It was paranoia, he knew, and maybe he’d curse it later, but for now? Better safe than sorry. He watched her for any kind of change in expression, any kind of tell that she was lying to him or was hiding her true nature, but there was nothing. ‘Okay,’ he finally replied, interlocking his own fingers and letting his elbows rest on his knees, careful to not lean too much into the arm he knew was injured. ‘What kind of tests?’

‘Just ones that’ll let us know what we’re dealing with,’ she said. ‘The only needles will be for bloodwork, and the rest will be like a checkup.’ 

A pause.

‘Which. . Mm. A checkup is like what we just did. Questions, and maybe we’ll check other things, but it’s ok. It won’t take long, and it won’t hurt.’ 

Five had to swallow the intense urge to tell her he knew what a fucking health checkup was, and instead flashed a tense smile that didn’t meet his eyes and nodded. It could be chalked up to being nervous, and they wouldn’t suspect the true depth of the reaction, not that he knew of anyway. He stood only once prompted to do so, let himself be led to the infirmary once again. 

The day went by fairly quickly after that and, almost in the blink of an eye, it was eight in the afternoon. The tests had been simple for him and complicated for the medics ; all that had been run came back negative. No augmentation, nothing to go off of, only a mysterious “condition” and no real explanation for how it had happened or why. Still, Angela smiled at him as she entered the room for the third time over the course of two hours. In one hand was a clipboard, the other a tray of food - and he couldn’t quite stop the immediate grimace that crossed his face, and she must have seen it, because her happy expression was suddenly laced with vague concern, maybe a dash of pity. ‘Just came from the cafeteria,’ she told him, ‘There's nothing in it.’

Because that was supposed to make him feel better, because he was supposed to take her word for it, because she totally wouldn’t lie to him - Five took the tray anyway, but set it off to the side. He wasn’t hungry right at that second anyway, so it’d have to wait. 

‘Any luck?’

‘The tests will be back in a few hours,’ she said earnestly as she walked around the room, straightening things up. The large windows directly across from the bed had the curtains drawn shut, and that was something he was grateful for - large, open rooms like that unnerved him. It was, in part, due to an unlucky decision during the apocalypse - he’d finally found a house, one that hadn’t been totally destroyed, but sleeping next to the open window had only opened up the opportunity for him to be burned - quite literally. Fire had crept through it, crawling up the already-crumbling structure of the house, and he’d only been woken up by the literal agony that was fire latching onto his arm - it ached at the memory, and he fidgeted. 

‘But from what we’ve gathered, you’ve no augmentation. Normally for something like that to happen, you’d have to have some kind of major enhancement, but there’s nothing.’ her voice was soft, tentative, as though the news would frighten him. He almost laughed, but resisted the urge in favor of holding up his act, firm and without faltering. ‘We don’t know what caused it or how you did it, but we’ll find out. Promise.’ 

Five nodded, even though he knew they wouldn’t find anything - it didn’t show up on tests. It just. . existed. It was just there. He didn’t know when he’d come to terms with that - normally, his approach was logical - but where his powers (and his siblings' powers) were concerned, he’d accepted from a young age that it simply wasn’t something that could be explained away or reasoned by any conventional methods. What was there was there, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Swiftly, Five realized that Angela was quiet - he waved his own thoughts away and then looked up, meeting her eye. She looked solemn, and though he didn’t quite know why, not by any legitimate or concrete means, he had his assumptions. Adults always got sad and depressed-looking when children were in need, or harmed otherwise, and he guessed that might have something to do with it. But whatever it was, he didn’t ask - wasn’t all that interested in what she might have to say. The whole. . pity thing still bounced off of him with a hint of irritation, and he wasn’t used to it. 

‘We’ll try to help with your memories, too,’ Angela said, the hopeful tint to her voice back suddenly. ‘We’re a bit more well-versed in that condition. Plenty of our agents have returned with amnesia, and they’ve each made full recoveries.’ 

‘Reassuring,’ Five replied, his own tone carrying faux hopefulness to some faint degree. Maybe he’d fake a head injury, say that it jogged his memory, and move on with his life. Lying to them was working out just fine, but if they were going to be trying to do it on their own, then he might as well speed up the process. That’d have to wait, though, because he’d been there barely a day and all that had happened was already enough to take in. Within the week, though, because it couldn’t hurt to ask them if they’d seen his siblings around once they got to that point. She beamed at him, which was partially unexpected, and then made her way over. He hardly resisted the urge to flinch back, and watched as she held the end of the stethoscope in one hand. ‘I just need to check again. Last time was a little rushed, admittedly, and I think it’d be better for both you and I if I checked once again.’

Skeptical at first, Five nodded - hesitant - and relaxed as much as he could get himself to - which, admittedly, wasn’t all that much, but was still enough for her. She stepped forward, but kept a comfortable distance given the circumstances, as she tried again. Her expression was void of most anything, focused, that professional edge back - a mask. He could respect it, to some degree or another. 

She said nothing as she leaned back, finally, though the corners of her lips were upturned anyway. Once she was certain that all was ok, that he wasn’t going to up and run after, she went on, ‘We’ll be getting back to you with the results later on today,’ the words were assurance, he could tell, but he didn’t feel it. Maybe because he didn’t care for the results - he knew nothing was wrong with him. They didn’t, but he did - he knew himself better than anyone else. They’d figure that out soon enough, he supposed - if he was to go with the whole. . telling the truth route. 

Lying senselessly had never been something he enjoyed, per se, but this wasn’t senselessly - for his safety, yeah, and maybe that was a better explanation than any other his brain had tried to come up with. Pieced together. He looked up at Angela, finally, and their eyes met - he wasn’t sure what to say to her, what he could say to her that would mean anything (he was very particular about what he said. If it wasn’t going to make a difference or impact, if it wasn’t going to affect something in some way, shape or form, he had no interest in saying it), but he was sure it’d come to him soon enough. Useless as all of this was, Five had learned a thing or two about this version of the future - that there had never been an apocalypse, but a war. That humans weren’t the cause of it, not the sole cause anyway, but a feud with omnics - robots - and that was that. It was interesting as much as it was confusing, though, because he was still adapting to the concept of things being standing after all that had happened in HIS version of the future. It could be that the war was fate’s compensation - that this version of the timeline had deserved to life, that this version hadn’t deserved an apocalypse. His chest felt tight. Too tight.

‘I’m going to go now,’ Angela said, her voice soft. ‘If you need anything, just press the button by your bed. I think Lena is going to be coming to visit soon, so you shouldn’t be too lonely.’

‘OK,’ he sighed, and if there was anything he could feel assured by, it was the fact that he actually didn’t mind Lena’s company all that much. She had some charming wit to her, and her humor reminded him of Diego’s in a way, so it wasn’t all that bad of a reminder. He hadn’t expected to take to her of all the people here, but he certainly wasn’t taking to Morrison, so it had to be SOMEONE. It didn’t help that he was growing restless, tired of being holed up in this room - three straight hours of the three medics coming in at random times - he mostly saw Angela, and saw Baptiste the least - it wasn’t exactly ideal, and he was almost vibrating with the urge to DO something. Anything. Climb out the window, maybe just go outside without telling them - it’d be a cause for panic for them, of course, but that was fine. He didn’t care all that much. Just -- something. Anything to do. He’d been holed up for longer and in much smaller spaces, but that had been because he’d wanted to be - not because he was stuck on some. . random base of operations in god-knows-where, surrounded by people he didn’t know. They’d told him their names and had introduced one another almost thoroughly, but he still didn’t know them, not like he needed to. As such, it was hard for him to trust them, hard for him to trust a single thing they said to him at any given moment. When they told him that the drink was just coffee and the food was just normal food, he took it with a pinch of salt and assumed they were poisoning or drugging him otherwise. The insistence that it was all normal and untouched didn’t make it any better, he’d decided, because it had only succeeded in making him that much more paranoid. Five had gotten out of the bed to pace - right in front of the two windows, and upon inspecting them further, he realized that both were sealed. He pressed his fingers against them, stared out at their surroundings - as far as he could say, this part of the building was positioned atop a hill, and down at the base of it was what he assumed to be training grounds. The sight tempted him wildly, but he could ALSO see that there were people down there - too far to really tell any details of, but there nonetheless.

He wanted to go down, needed to sharpen up and fine-tine his skills while he was essentially put on bedrest. The doctor woman would lose her mind, he understood, but figured that it couldn’t hurt THAT much to try it out. With that in mind, Five took a deep breath, had gone to reach for his power when -- the power shut off, everything in the room dying down with the rest of the building. He opened his eyes rather suddenly, and the room was bathed in a red light from the one that hung from the ceiling. It flashed erratically, an unpredictable pulsing that faded in and out without rhyme or reason. There was a voice on the speak, suddenly, one telling all agents to report to the main foyer.

He wondered what was going on, but acknowledged that he didn’t have to wonder. With little hesitance, Five scanned the room for any kind of weapon - figured that the fork from his plate would have to do, because it was metal and he wasn’t going out unarmed in case of an actual emergency, and then left the room. The door slid open with ease as he approached it, and then darted down the. . left hallway, that time, deciding he didn’t want to go to the main foyer. It’d be crowded, and he had no particular interest in that. Five was careful as he rounded the corner, his movement nimble and silent. So, as such, the figure passing by nearly missed sight of him - but not quite. Something swung overhead as he darted below it, and then there was gunfire, and oh, that was almost bad - real bad. The wall had chipped and broken where the spray of bullets had hit it, and at first he had imagined it was some kind of mix-up ; he HAD been slinking around like he was somewhere he shouldn’t have been, and it could have caused confusion, but when he raised his gaze to settle it on whoever had missed, he was met with the sight of. . something.

Not the face of someone, but a mask - it looked cold. A white surface with two black spots for eyes, and then a. . mouth? He didn’t know what THAT was supposed to be, but supposed it didn’t matter, because the gun was being raised again, and that told him it was absolutely NOT an accident that he’d almost had his head blown off. 

‘I didn’t know they let children into their program, but I guess it’s lucky I found you so quickly. Normally, they’ve got potential targets locked up somewhere. For their own safety, of course,’ the voice, hoarse and like someone had taken razors to the vocal cords, stated. Five grit his teeth together as he lurched forward, using his smaller stature to his advantage. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? Someone send you after me?’ he bit out, and became further agitated when there was no response. It was easy to fool people when he could disappear and reappear at will - he was gone in a flash of blue, the figure having shot where he’d just stood, and suddenly he was behind him - the fork was driven into the crook of his neck, and Five would act as though he wasn’t pleased with the alarmed shout. It definitely didn’t stop that elbow from being driven into his face, though, because he staggered and oh, his head spun. He’d somehow allowed himself to forget that the strength of adults easily dwarfed that of someone who was technically thirteen. 

And then there was a fist - weird, armored pieces that felt more like brass knuckles at the side of his head - and his entire body protested that time, black edging his vision and his muscles feeling as though they’d rather be spasming than forced to work again. He blinked it all away, his brows furrowed, and though he definitely felt that rhythmic pulsing : the pounding of his head with his heartbeat, frantic, the constant arrogant, arrogant, arrogant that chimed in his head, cursing him for his own sloppiness, fighting a too-strong opponent when he was hardly in the shape to do it. All things considered, Five was just grateful he’d reacted quickly enough to make it more of a glancing blow than a direct one - if it had been direct, he probably wouldn’t even be conscious anymore.

It didn’t matter, though, because it wasn’t about strength. He recovered fairly quickly and disappeared once more, this time reappearing with something he’d found in the immediate vicinity - it wasn’t an ideal weapon, the broken pipe, but it was something he could work with anyway. A jab here, a jab there - and he didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly they were both on the ground, and good god, the guy was heavier than he looked - practically crushed where he lay, he suddenly tugged his arms around what he assumed was the throat of the aggressor, pulling firm. It wouldn’t do much if the man knew what he was doing - and of course he did - but it was a fine distraction nonetheless. What had once been a corporeal body above him had suddenly turned into smoke, and Five had nearly punched himself in the throat with how quickly his own hands had been pulled back to himself. 

His alarm lasted only briefly, though, because then the physical version was back, and that was definitely a boot on his throat, and oh, how the turned tables. There was a gun pointed at his face, the barrel of it daunting and threatening in every sense of the word. It practically touched his cheek, and oh, that wasn’t a good feeling. He reached for what little energy he had, grasping at straws and little bits of whatever power he could get. Staring up at the man that was currently suffocating him beneath the weight of his boot, Five and disappeared once more. That time, though, it had been with an efficiency and certainty that could only be calculated and planned ahead of time ; he was right behind him, then and the sound the pipe made upon colliding with what Five could only assume was the back of the man’s head once, twice, and then a third time for good measure, was so. . comforting, but on the fourth attempt two arms had grabbed him around the middle, yanking him back. Immediately thrown into a new state of alarm, he’d begun to thrash - drove an elbow into their chest and did anything he could to get the fuck down, but only once he heard Lena’s voice did he realize who had grabbed him. It wasn’t her, of course - she was somewhere further behind - but it suddenly clicked in his head that it had been Morrison. He heaved a breath, chest rising and falling erratically as he stared ahead at the body, suddenly rigid. Distantly, Five knew that his efforts hadn’t done much more than render the attacker unconscious, and even that was a stretch - but he wasn’t moving, so he guessed it was safe to say that that’s what had happened.

Only when he dropped the pipe was he released, and then he took several steps away from Morrison - several steps away from the body - felt his back hit the nearby wall, and hung his head as exhaustion swept over him. It wasn’t actual exhaustion, he guessed - not in the typical sense - but the kind that normally plagued him after pushing himself too far with the jumps. It’d pass soon enough, and he figured that some coffee could help with it, but that wasn’t the concern right now - what WAS the concern, however, was the fact that he could feel Lena’s gaze drilling into him from where she stood, approaching tentatively. Morrison had gone to take care of whoever had infiltrated the base, so he didn’t have to worry about him for the time being. 

‘Five?’ her voice was too-soft, and he realized right after that she’d crouched directly in front of him. He stared at her, his brow furrowed and his hands still made into tight fists, fingernails digging into his palms. ‘Are you ok? We couldn’t find you, and, well -’

‘Fine,’ he said, though his shoulder protested, a steady thrum of pain, like it was the one calling him a liar, and it was almost laughable. 

Not quite.

‘I’m fine.’

Lena didn’t look like she believed him, but she nodded anyway. ‘Let’s get you back, yeah?’ and the hand that hovered just behind his shoulder but didn’t touch it gestured vaguely down the hall. He looked in its direction, but sighed and started walking anyway - he felt like. . shit, to put it in the most simple of terms. His head hurt, and there was blood that marked his top lip - blood that marked the side of his head, pretty sure there was blood on the back of his head, too, because he’d hit it pretty hard when he’d fallen with the guy. Too much blood. Too much. . aching. But he reminded himself he’d felt worse.

‘Where’d you learn to fight like that?’ she asked him, and though he’d nearly answered honestly, he quickly recovered and shrugged. 

‘I don’t know. It just came to me when he tried to shoot me.’

‘Thank heavens for that, right?’

'Sure,' he said, and then the rest of the walk back to the infirmary was near silent, only her light humming there to occupy the empty air. He didn’t have much a problem with it, though, because it made him think of Grace - and with how hectic things were getting here, he’d give an arm and a leg just to see her again. To see any of them again, to know that they were ok. In trying to save them, he’d possibly gotten them killed, and it made him sick to think of it that way, but he had no way of knowing yet. 

‘Took quite the beating,’ Lena said suddenly, and Five almost laughed. 

‘It isn’t that bad,’ he replied. 

‘You’ve got blood all over you.’

‘Still feels better than being shot.’

The brit laughed, then, her brows raised in something like shock as they stepped into the infirmary. Angela approached them both at once, and though she didn’t touch him, he could tell she’d been tempted to. Her expression was that of worry, and maybe some irritation lying underneath, but he wouldn’t promise that to himself, no matter how interesting it would be. ‘Safe and sound!’ Lena interrupted the quiet once again (she did that a lot, he was beginning to realize - like breaking tension, breaking the ice. He wasn’t sure if he appreciated it or if it annoyed him) as Angela had him sit down on the bed. 

‘What were you doing out of the room?’

‘Those sirens started going off,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t know where any of you were, so I went to look for you.’

It was only partially a lie. 

Angela didn’t reply to that, though, only continued with working on whatever wounds he’d sustained. ‘You may have a concussion - more than likely. He hit you pretty hard, and it looks as though you fell.’

‘I did.’

She made a face, but only nodded. Cleaned up the side of his head, the blood on his lip, and carefully felt for the source of the blood that had bloomed from the back of his head, matting his hair. It wasn’t bad, but she told him he would need to be careful anyway - take it easy. ‘Aside from those,’ she began, waiting until she was sure she had his attention to continue. ‘You’ll be ok. Some bruises, but that’s about it. You got very lucky.’

Luck had nothing to do with it. Skill, of course, but not luck. 

‘I guess I did.’ 

Angela’s eyes raised to the door as it opened, and Morrison stood there. He gestured at her vaguely, and she offered Five a smile and a light pat on the shoulder - the uninjured shoulder (though her face still flashed with guilt as he immediately dipped it under her touch, pulling away, and she looked apologetic but said nothing) - and then exited the room. He was left with Lena once more.

‘They just have to discuss what happened. The man who attacked you is, er. . A problem, to put it mildly.’

‘I assumed,’ he replied, feeling at the edges of the bandaging that Angela had set up for the side of his head, smoothing them out. ‘Who is he?’

‘People call him Reaper,’ she grunted, the name spit as though it were venom on her tongue. ‘But his real name is Gabriel. He used to be with overwatch. A lot happened, though.’

‘Mm.’ there was a small pause, and then he went on, ‘When he talked to me, he spoke like he knew me, or like he’d been sent here for me.’ Five said, pointedly ignoring the immediate look of concern that had plastered itself to Lena’s face, brows furrowed as she leaned forward in her chair. ‘I didn’t really get the chance to ask - or. . I did, but he just didn’t answer.’

‘He’s ominous like that,’ she said, though she still seemed stunned. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he was sent here for you, I mean. . With the whole blue flashy thing, there’s bound to be someone out there that’s after you.’

More than Lena’d ever know, he imagined. Five wouldn’t be surprised if the Commission had shown up here, too, if they’d clued this. . Reaper person in on what was going on. He didn’t have the energy to look into it, though, because god-damnit, the injuries of the day were really beginning to pile up. His ribs ached, his head hurt, and his shoulder did too - it was a lot. 

‘Anyway. . I think it's best if I let you get some rest. I’ll sit here, but I’ll actually be quiet this time. Might get some shut-eye myself.’

He stared at her for a moment, though he didn’t protest her words, simply pulled his legs up into the bed and shifted so he was up by the corner again, a pillow cushioning his head. For once, he’d let it stay there, because it allowed some relief, however small. ‘Thanks,’ he said, and she smiled. 

‘Course. Ange would have a fit if she found out I didn’t watch you, cause that whole concussion business. When you get up later, we can go get some coffee and maybe you can finally eat something.’

‘Don’t push your luck.’

The laughter was a nice sense of normalcy, but he didn’t dwell on it for long, simply let his eyes drift shut. 

He dreamed of the apocalypse, of fire and debris, of smoke and ash.

They weren’t good dreams, but they were the only ones he had anymore. 


	5. my heart and soul were never mine to own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter includes an oc! their role in overwatch as a whole organization is major, but the part they play in this? not so much. they're pretty much there solely to further the plot. they're only implied / referenced, though, so no worries there.  
>  also : apologies for the shorter chapter today! burned out slightly. Might take a small break, give myself time to get motivated.

When Five awoke next, it was peaceful. He didn’t open his eyes yet, simply took in every small noise around him. Something he’d always been grateful for, even as a kid before the apocalypse, was that once he stirred for the first time, he was up for the rest of the day. He struggled with going back to sleep, and on top of that, hardly bothered with the early-morning grogginess that had haunted his siblings when they were all younger (and if he was being honest, it still probably did). Once he was up, he was up - fully, entirely. There was no doubt about it. Sometimes he cursed that about himself, but this time, it was ok. There was the sound of footsteps and soft conversation - he heard Angela’s voice, and then a deeper one that he assumed belonged to Morrison - which meant that everything was ok. He dragged his eyes open after a moment of consideration, and if he’d been reluctant before, then it was doubled now. It went without saying that he hadn’t quite expected to open his eyes to THAT.

Not flowers, nor Lena - no hand waving itself in his face, nothing like that. No, when he opened his eyes, the face of a gorilla hovered just in front of him, big eyes peering into his own as they opened for the first time that morning. Five’s brain stalled, briefly, his first thought having been Pogo, but the instant he processed that it was a possible danger, he shot up in the bed - effectively startling whoever - whatever - had been staring at him. He pushed himself as far back as he could get, hands immediately fisted into the blanket as though to use it as a weapon if necessary. The gorilla stared with wide eyes, and Five felt a huff of laughter - maybe hysteria - bubble out of him as he recognized, distantly, that the damn thing was wearing glasses. 

‘Apologies,’ the ape said, and Five stared. Was this Pogo? Some. . weird version of Pogo? He resisted the urge to ask, because he wasn’t supposed to know any names of people he’d known before. He wasn’t supposed to say anything like that, because then they’d know he was lying, and he’d blow his own cover ; and as far as Five knew, Pogo hadn’t been brought with them. He was dead in the old timeline, and oh, Five felt like shit thinking about it that way. Old timeline. Not home anymore - though he wasn’t sure if it’d ever been his home. ‘I was just inspecting your injuries. You took quite the fall, I’m told. How are you feeling?’

Was this another doctor? Five’s gaze flicked to Angela instead of answering, and she only waved a hand at him, almost dismissive. ‘That is Winston,’ she said to him. ‘He’s one of ours. I wouldn’t have let him in if he wasn’t.’

‘Why does he need to know what I’ve already answered?’

‘Because you answered those questions yesterday - before you decided to fight one of Talon’s higher ups.’

‘I didn’t just decide to do anything. He almost blew my head off.’

The tension was maybe something he simply fabricated to make himself feel better, maybe it wasn’t - at any rate, he really didn’t give a shit. Not enough of one to commit to the idea that he was upset or wronged by the implication that he’d started the scuffle - things like that were inconsequential and, ultimately, useless to him at that point in time. When he could still feel the ape’s gaze still lingering on him, Five forced himself to meet his eye, and took a breath. ‘I’m feeling fine,’ he said, his tone mostly indifferent and without inflection. He didn’t feel. . anything. So, naturally, “fine” was his go-to answer - because he WAS fine. If he wasn’t dead, if he wasn’t dying, he was fine. ‘Like I’ve been saying - Fine. I’m just fine.’

‘You’re more than likely concussed, and you’re very lucky.’

Luck had nothing to do with it.

‘You could have been killed.’

He’d faced worse opponents before. All in all, Five supposed that it was one of the easiest in a while - Commission lackeys weren’t complicated by any means when it came to their strategy and way of approaching a situation like that one, but even they put up more of a fight than whoever THAT was had. But he couldn’t exactly tell her that, could he? No. No, he couldn’t.

‘Well I wasn’t, was I?’

Angela didn’t reply that time, assumedly fed up with their back and forth. Five was ignoring the gorilla pointedly, and only when he felt a large hand take his own did he actually react ; yanked away so suddenly he nearly hit his head on the wall, his brows furrowed. He stared back, finally, and bit out, ‘Don’t touch me.’

That sorry look was becoming much too familiar for his tastes. He didn’t want them to look sorry. He didn’t want them to react to his lashing out. But they did - time and time again - and it unnerved him much more than he’d have hoped for it to. ‘My apologies,’ Winston said again, ‘I was just inspecting your wrist. It may have been sprained. I was going to perform wrist instability tests.’

‘Wait - What? No, I think I’d know if my wrist was sprained. It doesn’t hurt.‘ this act was beginning to grow tedious - having to lie to each person time and time again? It was what he was used to, of course, but that didn’t mean he liked it any. ‘And what do those entail?’ he asked - asked as though he didn’t already know. 

‘I could show you,’ Winston said rather than explain, and Five stared at him skeptically. He knew what the tests were, knew that they were nothing major, but still figured he might as well convey the distrust he felt anyway, because it went without saying that they already KNEW he didn’t trust them ; might as well make it known physically, too. Finally, though, he relented - extended his arm. Winston, this time with a much softer approach, took his wrist carefully into one hand. Now that he actually looked, Five could point out the definite bruising there - and there was some discomfort when it was grasped, when he pushed against the scaphoid bone firmly - checking its stability. Next was a ballottement test, and then grip strength - regardless of the specificity of each, the result was the same. There was indeed a sprain, and Winston proposed the idea of a brace to help avoid agitating the strain - which Five immediately shot down.

He had no reason to wear a brace. He’d had worse injuries. They didn’t know that, and he wasn’t supposed to know that either, of course, but still. 

‘What are you going to do with him?’ Five asked, referring to the man whose head he’d taken a pipe to, and Angela perked up, seeming conflicted for the smallest of seconds. He had noticed it, though, and his eyes narrowed as he waited for her answer.

‘Interrogation,’ she said, and he could tell that her tone was that of uncertainty. ‘I don’t know. Ultimately, it is up to Jack.’ He could tell she was lying - it was in her voice, the way she averted her eyes, the way she immediately fidgeted. Five had no doubt that she had perfected lying, that she’d done it many times before, but that she didn’t expect him to be able to pick up on the signs. He did, though, unfortunately for her.

‘Why don’t you call him in and ask him?

‘Because it doesn’t work like that,’ Winston interrupted, grabbing Five’s attention abruptly. He stared at the. . ape, and stared incredulously, though still irritated. ‘Plus, Gabriel - Reaper - isn’t really a -’

Full stop, full brakes. Angela had cleared her throat, her eyes trained on Winston, lips pursed. The scientist immediately stopped talking, and in the quiet, Five tried to find clarity ; to no avail. He didn’t know the context, or what was GOING to be said, and it frustrated him so greatly that it felt unreal. ‘Isn’t really a WHAT?’ he insisted, leaning up all the way, though putting distance between himself and Winston, who was positioned near the edge of the bed still. ‘Are you lying to me?’

‘Five --’

‘Answer me.’ he demanded, his voice firm. He wasn’t accepting “no” as a response, and had no issue making that much as evident as he could get it right now. 

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re clearly under a great deal of stress, and your condition, it’s already-’

‘I don’t give a shit. Tell me. Are you hiding something from me?’

It was hypocritical of him to be this upset over potentially being lied to, but the difference was that Five’s lies did not potentially risk their lives. His lies kept him safe. Nobody else present was in on his lie. This was different, because he could have died, because he’d gotten hurt, and if it was their fault, he wanted to know. He wanted to know where he was putting his trust, and he wanted to know the full extent of his stupidity - he had trusted them, had tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

‘He is one of our agents. We were ordered to stage an infiltration in order to gauge the fullest extent of your abilities,’ Angela stated, her voice tentative but even nonetheless, and Five stared at her almost in disbelief. She continued, though, not giving him the opportunity to verbalize a response to what he’d just been told. ‘Even Jack has superiors, and it wasn’t fair of them, but the situation was a controlled one. He would not have shot you.’ and god, Five felt stupid. Not because he was ok with her explanation, not in the slightest bit, but because he’d trusted them. He’d trusted them - enough to be. . relaxed. He grit his teeth as he looked over her, watched her carefully, tried to figure out how she felt about it, but he couldn’t tell. He hated it. He hated this. He could have expected it, could have called the convenience of timing - Angela had left, and then the lights had gone out. It was all so clearly orchestrated, and he hated that he hadn’t seen it coming - blinded by. . something. Lena, maybe, because though she had lied to him too, she had been sweet.

‘You used me,’ he bit out. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been used, not even the second - but it still wasn’t something he liked regardless. It was irritating. Infuriating. He couldn’t stand the idea of it. Angela shook her head, ‘No, we didn’t use you. It’s not like that - you have to understand. We needed the information, and you - we were given orders. I don’t expect you to understand what it means to be given orders that you can’t not act out, but -’

‘You DID use me,’ he interrupted her, irritated, because otherwise he might have outed himself - had almost said that yes, he did know what it was like to be given orders, that yes, he did know what it was like to know he wasn’t allowed to not act on said orders. He couldn’t afford to slip up - not here, not now. ‘You lied to me, and it’s bullshit.’ 

Angela turned around, let out a sigh. ‘We can talk about this later,’ she said. ‘You need rest,’ and his eyes landed on the needle - his mind blanked, briefly, and then he rallied once more, now a mixture of absolute fury and the demeanor of a cornered animal. ‘It’s just to help you relax. Being panicked won’t help you OR us.’ 

‘I don’t give a shit about helping you,’ he said, the words harsh, and he meant them. His gaze darted from one side to the other, and then to his own hands, and Angela seemed to pick up on that, too, because she immediately responded with a swift, ‘Five, NO -’ and then he was gone, gone as though he’d never been there in the first place, leaving nothing but a flash of blue - and even that was gone after a few seconds, too. Angela let out a deep sigh, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. Winston looked. . something, his expression near unreadable but still pinched in a telling way. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to her, and she only shook her head. ‘We shouldn’t have -- It wasn’t a good idea. A child. . I understand they want tests done, but there should have been another way.’

‘Should we send Lena after him?’

‘Ideally.’

* * *

It was nine twenty-six am by the time any of them had happened across him - sitting by the training grounds as he was, he went fairly unnoticed. Watching how they fought was interesting, and Five half considered participating - but looked like shit, and he felt even worse. So, he’d sit out a while, maybe wait for that headache to subside. It wasn’t pounding out the sides of his head anymore, luckily, but it was still present and not exactly the most comforting of things. His arms were crossed over his chest, legs pulled up onto the bench and crossed as well. Without looking away from the sparring ahead, Five spoke, ‘You can come out. You’re not exactly discrete.’

‘I wasn’t trying to be discrete, if that means anything,’ Lena said as she stepped out from around the corner, and Five scoffed.

‘It doesn’t.’

She hummed lightly as she sat down on the other end of the bench, her hands clasped together in her lap. Five wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he couldn’t quite do it - and he cursed himself for that, of course, but it was just how it was. He didn’t have to like it, but he really didn’t have a choice when his brain had already decided it knew better than he did where Lena was concerned as a person. She reminded him too much of Vanya, and the association there was almost too much for him to even consider hating her. She’d, presumably, lied to him - but under someone else’s orders. A higher up. Five knew what that was like, but thinking of his former employer made him sick, so he simply didn’t. ‘Did you know?’ he asked her, figuring he might as well get that out of the way ahead of time.

‘Unfortunately,’ Lena replied, and he nodded. Understanding and being ok with the reality of something were two different things, and he was only then understanding. Being ok with it was going to be a completely different story, and as it was, he couldn’t see himself being ok with it. With his nose wrinkled up and his gaze still far-away where it was plastered on the moving figures, he continued, ‘Who all knew?’

‘All of us did,’ she stated evenly. ‘If it helps, none of us wanted it to happen. You’re a kid, but. . You know. Orders are orders.’ 

Yeah, he knew what that was like. He knew that she didn’t know that he knew, but he did. Still, Five shrugged, ‘I guess so.’ and that was that. This wasn’t a matter of forgiveness, not by a long shot, but it was a step in the right direction, he guessed, and he’d be lying if he said he held it against them entirely. Maybe whoever this higher up was, sure, but not them - they seemed pretty torn up about it, probably more than he was. ‘Some of it seemed genuine,’ he stated evenly, ‘What you said about him.’

‘Oh, that’s because it was.’ her voice was flat. ‘He may be with us now, but not long ago that WAS who he’d been. A problem. . A bad one, really.’ He looked at her as she spoke, but said nothing, simply let her ramble. ‘I don’t know why we let him in, but he’s been. . clean. Well-behaved. That depends on who you ask, though, and I try not to be biased.’ 

‘And this? He was in on it?’

‘It wasn’t ideal,’ Lena said. ‘But since they knew that none of us wanted to do it, they chose him. He doesn’t exactly look friendly, and you didn’t know him, so they said it was “the perfect opportunity”. Observe your skill level and all that.’ He could have laughed at the words if he wasn’t taking them in so seriously. Observation was something he was no stranger to. ‘And what did they think?’

‘That your skill, apparently, exceeds that of one of our own?’ Lena laughed. ‘I don’t know. You fought well, and they’re very interested in that potential.’

‘Is that a good thing?’ Five asked.

‘I don’t think so. Normally when they’ve found interest in someone, they seek to hire them.’ she mused.

‘That IS bad news.’ he agreed.

‘Most children would see it as their dream to be with Overwatch,’ the brit chuckled, her brows raised as she looked over at him. He averted his eyes shortly after, and shrugged. 

‘I didn’t even know you guys existed until a day or so ago.’ 

‘That’s fair.’

The quiet after was nice. It was peaceful in its own way - and if he relaxed just enough, he could pretend like the shaking of his hands (they were always like that, shaky. He didn’t know why, and didn’t care enough to find out) had subsided, like the headache and the ringing of his ears were both gone. They weren’t, of course, but he could act. All he did was act. Act, lie. . Get away with it, think about it years down the line, rinse and repeat. To save his own ass, for his own safety, for his family, their safety - he had to get back to them alive. It was why he lied, why he acted. For them, always for them. . But if they were dead? If he’d done all of this for nothing? If he had gotten them killed? Five’s stomach flipped uncomfortably and his chest tightened. The quiet was suddenly oppressive, no longer something to be assured by, no longer something to take solace in. 

‘Do you have any siblings?’ he asked her, his voice strained. She looked over, and he could see the concern from the corner of his eye, but luckily, she didn’t mention it. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I’d ask the same, but. . unless your encounter with Reaper knocked a few memories around, I don’t think you’d remember.’

So close to just coming clean. So god damn close. He took a deep breath and nodded instead, appearing pensive. He noted another presence somewhere to his left, opposite of where Lena had approached from, and cleared his throat. The brit beside him perked up, and then she beamed. ‘Zenyatta!’ was exclaimed, and he raised his head - only to see a. . robot. Omnic, as they called them. But not the type that had been described - it looked docile. Zenyatta, she had called it. ‘Welcome! I didn’t know you were due here.’ 

‘I wasn’t due,’ he said. ‘But I was called to help. For what, Dr. Ziegler did not say, but that I would understand when I arrived.’ his voice was even - comforting, to some degree. It reminded him of Pogo. It made him sick. 

Lena’s expression softened, and she nodded. The omnic drifted over, coming to a stop in front of Five, who met his eye (?) almost reluctantly.

‘You seem troubled,’ Zenyatta observed.

‘Don’t we all?’ Five deflected.

‘In theory,’ the omnic mused, and then looked to Lena, almost knowingly. There was no expression, nothing to tell Five what he was thinking, and it was irritating. He said nothing, though, only watched as they looked at one another. Then, without much time wasted, ‘Could I offer you possible peace of mind, my child?’

‘I’m not your child.’

‘That does not answer my question.’ 

There was a long pause as he looked at Zenyatta, and then to Lena, who nodded encouragingly. Five heaved a deep breath and, figuring that it couldn’t hurt, shrugged. ‘Okay. Fine, whatever.’ 

Zenyatta tutted - or made a noise like it - lightly and hovered back slightly, allowing space between himself and Five. Then he waved one arm, and it was like a blanket of warmth had fallen over him - clarity, almost. It wasn’t obvious - it was hard to believe that when the main descriptor had been “like a blanket”, but it made sense that way. It was like. . a light pull. Like it was taking all of the positive he had and bringing it to the front - and the headache was easing, too, which was nice. ‘What’s. .’

‘The orb of harmony,’ Zenyatta supplied. ‘It will assist you just as it has assisted my former pupils.’ 

When Five actually moved to look at the gentle light, it swayed - a gentle bob as his body moved. It hovered there, almost attached to him, and it was glowing. He watched it for a second, two, maybe three, and then looked back toward the omnic. ‘Why are you helping me?’

‘Because I understand what it means to be under pressure,’ replied Zenyatta, ‘The stress. Being betrayed, lied to, these are all things myself and my brothers, my sisters, have experienced. I wish nothing of the sort on anyone, not even those who have wronged us in the past.’ The way he spoke definitely made Five think of Pogo ; there was no doubt about it. He didn’t feel sick, though - maybe a little relieved. As much as the constant reminder and resemblance hurt, as much as he wanted to stop thinking about it, it wasn’t that bad now. Maybe it was what he needed - he didn’t know. There was a lot he needed, so he guessed he’d be finding out - like a bucket list, almost. ‘What is it doing?’

‘Healing and mending all that it can,’ the omnic said, and reached out, one of his hands extended, palm up ; an offering of peace. ‘May I show you?’ 

Five hesitated. He stared at the offered hand, his brows furrowed, but. . took it anyway. Carefully, the cool metal moved, both hands enveloping Five’s own single one. ‘The Iris embraces you, child. Your youth can still be salvaged if you wish for it to be.’ 

He didn’t have his youth, not anymore. It had gone when he’d gotten himself stuck in the apocalypse - and even before that, it had gone the instant that Reginald Hargreeves had taken him from his mother. He’d never been a child. He’d never had a childhood, and he never would - not even in a place where it was promised. Five pulled his hand away, and he could feel the warmth of the orb leaving him, but he didn’t care. Zenyatta didn’t seem too surprised by this (Five wasn’t sure how he would seem surprised, he was a fucking robot, visually inexpressive). ‘I may not remember who I am,’ he said, ‘But I don’t think I ever had a childhood to begin with.’

‘Not many in this world did,’ Zen replied, still gentle in his approach. ‘But that does not mean it’s impossible to try now.’

‘And if I don’t want to try now?’

‘Then there is always later. No matter how long it takes for you to become comfortable with the idea, there will be time. We have all of it that we need.’

He hated this. He hated the patience. He hated that Zenyatta reminded him of Pogo, and he hated that he couldn’t go a single interaction without imagining his family. Where they were, what he’d done. If they were dead, that was his fault. Pogo was dead, and that was his fault. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, and flashed an entirely fake smile, tense and light and hardly there at all. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Five,’ Lena began, voice soft but firm. She looked out at the training grounds, and then smiled lightly.

‘How about we give it a round?’

A pause. He followed her gaze skeptically.

‘You’re serious?’

‘Absolutely.’

And it wasn’t the best option of all the ones he could think of, but it was definitely a start. He could do with something being on his terms for the first time since he’d gotten there.

‘Okay,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s hurry, then.’ 

‘Wouldn’t dream of keeping you waiting, mate.’


End file.
